


Prompt: You come to my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?

by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch



Series: Tumblr Stuff [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Castiel in the Bunker, Coda, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Dean, Post-Episode: s13e04 The Big Empty, Prompt Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 10:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch/pseuds/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch
Summary: Written for a tumblr prompt. Cas is back and Dean can't quite believe it yet.





	Prompt: You come to my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?

 

„You come to my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?”

Dean sways after he pulls back from the long hug he gave Cas, his half empty bottle of Jack dangles from his fist, and he’s suddenly aware how this must look. Cas’ wording makes it worse – and Dean is only half sure Cas meant it as a joke. Fueled by the relief to have Cas back and the memory of the last weeks, he soldiers on. 

“I… I just wanted … I needed to make sure you’re really back, to see if you’re real.”

Cas squints at him, but his gaze is warm. His left hand is still on the door and he pushes it open wide, takes a step back, an invitation. Dean’s eyes dart through Cas’ room. It’s functional and lacks every personal touch. 

Dean packed the few things Mary left and the books Cas borrowed from the library when he last stayed here into three boxes that now rest in the closet. Because that’s what you do when people die and you’re are left alone with the scattered reminders of their lives. 

Cas goes over to the bed. He’s still wearing his coat and shoes and it’s clear he hasn’t slept. Back to full angel juice, he doesn’t have to. Dean lay awake for hours and thought about it, Cas alone in his room, and as the hours crept on, he started to doubt the last day had been real. His mind had played tricks before, and maybe all of this had been a dream, so he had to make sure.   
Dean sits down next to Cas on the bed, hands curled around the bottle in his lap. He picks at the label and keeps his gaze down. 

“How are you?” It’s a lame question, but the quiet weighs on his shoulders like a yoke. 

“I’m fine.” 

Dean laughs at that, an angry sound almost, and shoots a look over at Cas, who smiles back at him. His heart surges at the sight. 

“I really am,” Cas says, and he reaches out to cover Dean’s hand with his. It’s a simple gesture, but one so vastly beyond their usual amount of physical contact that Dean can’t process it right away. Cas’ thumb strokes along the fresh scar on the back of Dean’s hand, curtesy of the fight with the wraith. 

“When I was trapped in the Empty, I was given a choice.” 

The stroking and Cas’ soft voice are kinda hypnotizing and Dean fights to concentrate on what Cas says. 

“I could have stayed. I could have slept forever, at the side of my brothers and sisters, oblivious and in eternal peace.” Cas draws a shallow breath, and in the silence that follows, Dean tries to imagine how that would feel – to find peace and solace, to stop fighting and succumb to the empty darkness. He sure has had moments when that choice would have been an easy one. 

“Why’d you come back? There’s nothing here but pain and death,” Dean murmurs and remembers his words to Patience. He had meant them at that time, he’s not sure he fully means them now. 

Cas chuckles, but it’s a sad sound. “The Empty told me the same. It mocked me and showed me all the times I had failed, the times I had been defeated and destroyed.” A heavy pause again. “It told me there would be nothing for me here.” His thumb paints tiny patterns on Dean’s skin. “I did not agree. I made my choice and fought my way out.”

Dean hums, gaze rapt on the movement of Cas’ hand. Of course Cas had come back, he felt responsible for Jack and Cas would never just give up. It’s who he is. Dean is, selfishly maybe, glad Cas is wired that way. 

Cas makes an impatient sound, as if he waits for Dean to answer a question that has never been asked. He turns and brings his free hand up to Dean’s neck, and woah, this is really …

“I fought my way back, Dean. To you.”

Cas’ palm is hot on his skin. Dean’s mind short-circuits around Cas’ words and his heart stumbles over a few beats while he desperately tries to make sense of all this. Cas’ eyes find his and hold on. Dean’s drowning in the emotion he finds there. When Cas speaks again, his voice is rough.  

“I gave up an eternity of peace to be at your side again, to be with you. I will not make the same mistakes I made in the past. I will not waste another chance.”

Dean almost laughs at Cas’ resolution. Just hours ago, when he had felt Cas alive and whole in his arms, he had sworn himself he would stop yearning for something he can’t have, he would be content with Cas being with them, he would bury everything else – a sacrifice of sorts, for having Cas back against all odds. Now hope flares like a torch, and its flames reach all the dark and empty spaces Cas’ death left inside him. 

“Then take it,” Dean murmurs. Cas’ eyes are wide when Dean leans in, slow, careful, still unsure if this is real, but Cas doesn’t move and doesn’t turn away. The kiss, their first, is just a tender brush of lips. Dean’s heart hammers in his throat, and yeah, he thinks he would give up eternity for Cas, too.   
  
For this. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm procasdeanating on tumblr. Come say hi!


End file.
